


Ma Cherie

by evieplease



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Cherie - Freeform, F/M, Thunderstorms, injured foot, running on the beach, scary dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10859685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieplease/pseuds/evieplease
Summary: OFC rescues Tom from the Bad Puppy





	1. Chapter 1

Cherie stood at the glass sliding door that opened from her kitchen onto the beach, drinking her morning coffee in her nightie, watching the light rain and the ocean waves roll onto the beach. The surf was high and ferocious that morning. Must be a pretty big storm out to sea, she mused, perhaps she should put the weather channel on… But she hated the incessant chatter of the TV, she much preferred to be able to hear the ocean and the gulls, and when the weather was nice, the shouting and laughter of her neighbors’ kids come to build sandcastles. She’d been known to join them a time or two… Well, she thought, no sandcastles today.

She watched as the jogger she’d been seeing off and on in the early mornings for the last couple of weeks loped past. She idly watched him run north on the wet strand, his headphones in, his bright blonde curls muted by the gray morning light. He clearly had more ambition than she, to be out running in the cold, light rain. He moved easily, gracefully, his long legs stretching out and eating up the distance. She watched him out of sight, sipping her coffee, then switched her gaze back to the crashing waves. 

She stood there a few more minutes, just watching, when she noticed that the rain was thickening and the wind was beginning to pick up. The light was getting darker, she could see her reflection clearly in the glass now. Cherie glanced down her body and shivered lightly, the white silk slip nightie falling to mid-thigh offering no particular warmth on this cool gray day. She could either go get dressed, or she could start the driftwood fire she had laid in the fireplace at the other side of the large kitchen. She decided that since it was the first day of her vacation, and the weather was shitty, she didn’t have to get dressed. So she went and knelt in front of the fireplace, struck a long match, and soon had a lovely fire going, warming her as she sat back on her heels. That would heat the kitchen nicely.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten yet, so she set about making herself breakfast. A better breakfast than she usually bothered with, not her usual protein bar, it was vacation after all. She gathered sausages, eggs, cheese, tomatoes, spinach and mushrooms from the refrigerator. An omelet would do nicely. Cherie set her phone in the dock and selected a Motown playlist. A little Marvin Gaye and Diana Ross ought to liven up her morning. Cherie danced in place and sang as she whipped eggs, grated cheese and sliced mushrooms. She pulled a pair of scissors from the drawer and went over to the herbs growing in pots in front of the glass door. She was just bending over to snip some chives for her omelet when there was a flash of lightning and a roll of thunder. Glancing up through the glass, she watched in horror as the stray German Shepherd mix that had been hanging around lately charged barking at the lone jogger, now on his return trip down the beach. The dog had obviously startled the man, he yelled and tripped, landing on his ass, with his arm thrown up to defend himself from the dog now viscously snarling and growling at him from a few feet away. 

Cherie didn’t even stop to think, she just acted. She slammed the slider open, and ran out the door, snatching up the piece of driftwood lying nearby that she’d collected last week and brought home. Without breaking stride she charged out onto the beach, giving a loud piercing whistle. Both the dog and the man looked up at her as she bore down on them. Shouting at the dog and brandishing her stick, she kept going right at the dog, which was now barking at her, ignoring the man on the sand.

“Get away, dog! Go on! Fuck off now!" she shouted at the dog as it backed away from the new threat. Continuing to shout, she moved between the dog and the man, she snapped the stick down in front of the dog’s nose, once, twice, and he suddenly turned tail and ran, yelping.

"That’s right! Move your ass, you mangy cur! And don’t you come back or I’ll kick your ass into next Tuesday!!” she shouted after him as he ran. The dog kept going, and she stood panting, watching after it, completely unaware of how fierce, powerful and magnificent she looked to the man she had rescued, a barefoot avenging angel in wet silk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a bit of a tease at first. But don’t worry. You’ll get your ‘happy ending’ eventually!

“Oh my god, thank you!!” the man exclaimed. “Are you alright??" That was brilliant! YOU were brilliant! God, that thing came out of nowhere! So did you! Jesus! Thank you! I’m so sorry!” the man gasped in a clearly adrenaline-fueled rush. She turned, shoving her rain soaked hair out of her face to see the jogger wide-eyed, looking up at her from the sand, trying to scramble to his feet.

“No problem. Are you alright?” she panted at him, and extended a hand to him to help him upright.

Cherie found herself looking not too far up at a blinding white smile and bright blue eyes with smile lines creasing his temples. God, she thought, he’s beautiful…

“I thought that hell-hound was going to shred me into bloody bits! Thank you, darling, for rescuing me!”

He suddenly wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a bear hug, one hand landed on her mid-back, and the other cupped the back of her head. He squeezed her tightly and rocked a bit, hooking his chin over her shoulder. She was tall enough that he didn’t have to bend over much, but he nonetheless bowed her entire body into his.

Cherie stiffened in surprise, for an instant, her heart still thundering from the rush, and not being used to this much close body contact with someone she didn’t know. But it was such a genuine, heartfelt hug that she couldn’t help but relax into it. Damn, he smelled good! She was a little stunned at herself for her reaction. The man leaned back to look into her face.

“You pack a lot of menace when you set your mind to it, don’t you? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tom." 

Cherie had just introduced herself in return- which felt a little ridiculous as she already felt quite… thoroughly… introduced to him. As she opened her mouth to invite him in, there was near simultaneous crack of thunder and flash of lightning.

"Fuck!” he shouted and jumped, as she let out a scream. She yanked herself out of his embrace, spinning around, unconsciously scanning for a fresh foe. 

“C'mon! Let’s get inside!!” she shouted over the storm.

The rain was now coming down in sheets, soaking them both instantly to the skin, and more thunder could be heard grumbling threateningly in the distance.  
Cherie turned to lead Tom to her door, when she heard him swear behind her. She turned back, and found him down on the sand again, clutching his right foot.

“Must have twisted it when I went down! I’m such a clumsy tit! Give me a minute…”

Another crash of thunder and lightning, and she felt an overwhelming need to get them indoors out of the storm. She had a prickling feeling of static climbing her nerves, and she glanced around anxiously.

“Yeah, no! There are no more minutes, put your ass in gear!!” She reached down and gave him an urgent pull, almost yanking him to his feet without his input. Once on his feet, Tom tried to take a step on that foot, he winced and gritted his teeth. 

“Right.” he gasped, “Give me your shoulder, love. Sorry.”

Cherie moved to his side, pulled his arm over her shoulders, and snaked her other arm around his ribs, clamping him to her side. She set a rapid pace that he did his best to keep up with. She seemed perfectly capable of picking him up and carrying him if he didn’t keep up with her!

By the time they reached the house they were both gasping for breath. She helped him maneuver over the threshold, and shoved the slider shut, blowing out a gust of air in relief. They both laughed shakily. Tom stopped short.

“I should take my shoes off so I don’t track sand all over your floor.” he protested.

“How about we get you six more feet to that chair,” she pointed with her chin, “and I’ll just deal, ok? You’re not getting any lighter here…" She swiped her wet face on her shoulder.

"Oh right! Sorry!”

It’s fine.“ She smiled up at him. "And you can quit apologizing any time now.”

“Sorry, sorry!”

“Seriously??" She grinned, giving him an amused side eye from a distance of about 4 inches. She shuffled him across to her big squashy reading chair, and helped him turn and sit. He gave a little groan of relief.

"Let me get some towels, I’ll be right back. Stay there!” she ordered.

Cherie trotted through the kitchen and down the hall to the linen closet. Opening the door to the closet and rummaging, she called back over her shoulder.

“What were you doing running around out there in this weather anyway?” She came back in carrying a stack of dry, fluffy towels. Handing him a couple, she added, “Normal grown-up people know enough to stay indoors when it’s thunder and lightning…”

“It wasn’t thunder and lightning when I started out!” Tom assured her, peering out from under the towel he was vigorously rubbing over his hair. “I didn’t order this weather!" 

Cherie grinned down at him, toweling her own hair. "Who do you think you are, Thor, God of Thunder?!”

“No. Just his brother!” He sent her a wicked smile. Cherie stopped toweling her hair and blinked down at him, puzzled by his response, her brow wrinkled.

“Uuh, o-kaayy.” she drawled. “Um, you didn’t hit your head or anything, did you?" She raised a hand to his head, searching around in his damp curls for blood or obvious bumps.

He reached up and grasped her wrist, pulling it out of his hair. He tilted his chin down, and his eyes darkened. Cherie’s breath caught, unprepared for his sudden change in demeanor. With a sly look on his face, his voice deepened and became vaguely menacing.

"I am not concussed, mortal…” he nearly purred at her. “Just Burdened with Glorious… Thor.” He rolled his eyes and smirked. How did he make that weirdness sexy?

She could hear the capital letters. It sounded like a quote, but she didn’t recognize it. Then there was his tone… She shivered slightly. She gently pulled her wrist out of his grip, cleared her throat lightly, went to the freezer, searched briefly, and withdrew a bag of peas.

“So… this is normal for you?” she asked over her shoulder. “ Are you generally a little… strange?" Cherie looked at him curiously, as she found a clean tea towel and wrapped the peas in it, making an improvised cold pack for his foot.

Tom morphed back into the laughing man of a moment earlier. "No! Well, maybe. I just… oh, never mind!”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I feel like I missed something, here. Would you care to enlighten me, or are you just going to be all cryptic?" Cherie put her hand on her hips and threw him a mock glare.

"I …think I’ll just go with cryptic for now, darling” he twinkled at her, shaking his head.

“Ah, a Man of Mystery, I see how it is now!”


	3. Chapter 3

“So, Mystery Man, how’s your foot?”

Cherie brought the improvised cold pack over to him, prepared to check his injury. Tom took the pack from her. His eyes flickered over her, his brow furrowed, and he shifted a bit in his chair. His gaze fastened onto her eyes, he reached for her hand. 

“Darling, you are… utterly enchanting.” His voice rasped slightly, the muscles in his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth briefly. Then his eyes flicked over her again, and he straightened. 

“But it would be very poor form indeed to allow you to tend to me while neglecting your comfort.” he said quietly. “You’re drenched and shivering, love. Please go put on some dry clothing." He made it a quiet order. He squeezed her hand and released it.

Cherie glanced down at herself, and gasped to see the white silk of her very wet nightie gone completely translucent and plastered to her body, leaving her almost entirely exposed before him, her nipples so hard with the cold that she thought they might rend the silk. Well, crap.

Just as she realized her semi-nude state, the fates turned the screws, jerking her head around to stare at the speakers, by selecting Martha and the Vandellas from her playlist: ”Nowhere to run, baby, nowhere to hide…“

"Well, that was just unnecessary!!” she muttered at the ceiling gods, throwing Tom a hunted look as she sprinted out of the kitchen. 

“You must admit, darling, that was brilliant timing!" He called out after her and laughed a quite distinctive laugh. "Ehehehehe!”

“Yeah, no! I’m an American, it’s my constitutional right not admit anything! I don’t know what I did to piss off Lady Karma, but I’m taking her to court this time!” her voice came from her room.

God, this is so embarrassing, she thought. Once out of sight she squeezed her eyes shut. Even her belly clenched in embarrassment. As she reached her bedroom she put her hands over her burning face and groaned quietly to herself. Embarrassment. Not arousal. Definitely not. She changed her clothes, leaving her wet nightie in a heap on the shower floor, and dug into her bottom drawer for dry clothes for Tom. At least she was tall enough that her sweat pants wouldn’t look too ridiculous on him. But she had the feeling that he could wear anything and it would look good. Or nothing at all….

In the kitchen, Tom shook his head at himself. He thought he must be mad to have sent that glorious, nearly naked woman out of the room, to put on clothing, worse yet! But ogling her, and pawing over her in his head was not proper thanks for her rescue. She had been fierce, and bloody gallant, his very own St. George, and he would be damned if he was going to take advantage of her in this state. He was not some damned teenaged boy ruled by his dick and playing out a goddamned fantasy from a porno flick! No. He would behave himself, even if he knew she was bound to show up in a future wet dream! She had saved him from untold grief, not to mention saving the production schedule. He needed to find a way to thank her properly. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t exert himself to be entertaining until she shipped him off home. And he really liked that she didn’t appear to know that he was an actor. That was happening less and less these days.

Tom turned his attention to his foot, and stripped off his shoes and socks. There was already the beginning of an ugly purple bruise, and swelling along the outside of his foot. It was quite tender to the touch, but everything seemed to be in working order when he flexed and rotated his ankle and curled his toes. He covered the area with the towel-wrapped pack of frozen peas. Clever, that, he mused. 

He sighed. He really didn’t need this right now. With shooting cancelled because of the rain and an unexpected day off, he’d hoped to catch up on some errands, grocery shopping and the like. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen now. He sighed again. It looked like he was going to be stuck, immobilized, bored and alone in his rental for the day.

Or maybe not. He looked up when she marched back into the kitchen, wearing a pair of soft, old blue jeans and a grey tee with something written on it, the words hidden by the half zipped navy hoodie she wore over it. Color still staining her cheeks, she handed him a bundle of dry clothing. She cleared her throat casually.

“Would you like some tea?… Or do you need to get back? I can run you home in my car. ”

“Darling, I’d kill for a cuppa! And no. As it happens I’ve the day off. What about you? Am I keeping you?” he asked anxiously.

“Mmm, no. First day of vacation, yay!" She smiled as she moved to start the tea. "All I had to do today was rescue the idiot… uh, I mean, the Gentleman from the Bad Puppy." Her smile quirked into a saucy grin over her shoulder. 

Tom rolled his eyes at her. "You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Hmmm, let me think.” She stood and tapped her lips thoughtfully. “Are you going to let me forget capering around in front of you practically nude?" She scowled at him through her blush.

Tom’s eyes danced at her. "Oh no, darling Cherie, I’m going to cherish that memory all my living days!”

“Humph!” she sniffed, “Well, there’s your answer, then!”

Cherie tapped the bundle of dry clothes she’d given him and ordered him to get changed. A small secretive smile flitted over her face as she glanced over at him on her way out, leaving him to it. She resolutely pushed the image of him, naked in her kitchen, out of her head. Tom thought he heard a little snicker from the hallway after she’d gone.

Tom hastily stripped off, his running kit was sodden and clammy, his skin chilled and goose pimpled. His foot twinged a bit as he changed into the dry sweats. He shook out the tee shirt she’d given him and chuckled at the baby pink ‘Hello Kitty’ tee. He liked her sass. He pulled the shirt on. It was a relief to be warmly clad, 'Hello Kitty’ not withstanding.

“Tom?” she called, “Are you decent?”

“Well, I don’t know about 'decent’ quite, Cherie,” he glanced askance down at the 'Hello Kitty’ shirt, “but I am fully clothed!”

Cherie came back into the kitchen carrying a half full laundry basket and scooped his wet clothing into it. She stood for a moment and eyed him in that shirt, her lips twitched and her dimple flashed as she tried not to laugh out loud. 

Tom glanced again at the shirt, and smoothed his hand over his chest.

“Thank you for the dry clothing." He smirked and petted his hand over the shirt. "I like kitties!”

The giggle she’d been holding in escaped. "Better than Bad Puppies?“ she asked.

"Oh yes,” he replied in a low voice. “Kitties are warmer and softer. Much more to my… taste.”

Cherie blinked at him. He kept surprising her with these little double entendres, and his playfulness.

“Wow. That’s some flirt you got going on there!” she quipped over her shoulder as she left to start the wash.

“Sorry!” he called after her.

“Again with the apologies? No, don’t mind me! At least you’re more entertaining than watching the rain pour down on my vacation!”

Cherie carefully checked his pockets before dropping his clothing in the washer, pulled out his keys, his ID, and, she snorted, a condom in it’s package, of all things. She slipped his belongings into her back pocket to return them. Definitely more entertaining than the rain! 

When she returned to the kitchen she poured out the tea, and brought his cup to him. He thanked her. Then, as she sipped her own tea, she pulled his belongings out of her pocket, set his keys and ID carefully down on the reading table at his elbow, and with a flourish added the condom.

“Lots of call for a condom while you run, have you?” she asked archly.

He spluttered. “Hey,” he held his hands up, “it’s just a bit of rubbish I picked up on the beach! I forgot it was even in there!”

“Hmm. If you say so…” she teased.

At that moment her stomach rumbled loudly. She grimaced and glanced over her shoulder at her unfinished breakfast preparations.

Tom immediately went into apology mode. “I’m so sorry! I’ve kept you from your breakfast! I’ll just…" At that moment his own stomach growled.

"Well, that settles that then!” she grinned. “Will you join me for breakfast, Tom?


	4. Chapter 4

Cherie was shoving his wet clothes into the dryer when she realized something was missing. She must have dropped them, she thought. She looked around the floor of the laundry room and didn’t see them. Cherie pulled the clothing out of the dryer and shook it all out. No dice. Where…? She must have let them fall as she carried them through. 

She walked back to the kitchen, her eyes sweeping the floor around her, muttering to herself, not finding the item. 

Going back into the laundry room, she checked behind the appliances. She found a missing sock of hers, lint fluff and dust, but still nothing of his. How could she have lost…? 

She retraced her steps once again to the kitchen. She stooped and glanced under his chair, and under the table for good measure. Where on earth could they have gotten to, she wondered? She turned in a complete circle, checking corners, and even countertops, knowing that they couldn’t be there, but looking anyway. They simply weren’t anywhere they ought to be! Oh gods, she thought to herself, he’s going to think that I… She could feel herself reddening.

“Something I can help you with, darling?" Tom enquired curiously, watching her perambulations. Cherie covered her face with her hands, feeling the warmth of the blush blossoming there.

"Um. I can't… I seem to have… I don’t know what happened to…" She took a deep breath and spilled it out. "I can’t find your damn underpants! I’ve looked everywhere! Twice!”

Cherie peeked over her hands at him, noting that he looked caught out.

Tom cleared his throat.

“Mm. You, ah, didn’t lose them. You never had them…”

“What?" Cherie looked confused,"What do you…” and then her eyebrows shot up and a grin started to curl the corner of her mouth, her dimple deepening.  
“So either you’re sitting there in wet underpants, or… I can’t believe you’d go running without supporting your um… dangly bits?”

“Um, no. That would be exceedingly uncomfortable, I should think." He looked a bit sheepish.

"So… is this the famous ‘British Reserve’? You didn’t give them to me because you, -what? Didn’t want me ogling your undies?" Cherie grinned wider, her eyes dancing.

Tom shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "It did seem a bit… indiscreet." She snorted rather indelicately. 

"You rat! Here I was thinking that I’d lost them! And that you’d think I was some sort of pervert, stealing your underpants to use to..!”

He watched her, a slow, sly grin forming on his face. “To use to…-what, darling?” he lifted an eyebrow and the devil danced a challenge in his eyes, a purr in his voice.

Cherie felt herself go pink again. “Ok, now you’re just yanking my chain! Is that nice?" She tapped her chin with a forefinger, narrowed her eyes at him, and stared at him long enough for his smile to begin to falter. Cherie stepped forward, and her own devil answered his challenge.

She darted her hand out and snapped her fingers under his nose. His eyes flew to her fingers in surprise, both eyebrows as high as they could go. She opened her hand and made a 'come along’ gesture with all her fingers. 

"Hand 'em over, Tom.” Her own eyebrow arched in turn. “C'mon, c'mon! You’re too old to be a blushing maiden. I’m not letting you sit around catching your death in wet underpants!”


	5. Chapter 5

“I’m not letting you sit around catching your death in wet underpants!”

Tom folded his arms over his chest and arched an eyebrow. “Just what, exactly, do you think you can do about it, Cherie?”

She dropped the hand she was holding out down to her hip. There it was. She blew a strand of hair up off her forehead in exasperation. She knew she was standing, they were standing, on the edge of a precipice. Step forward, or step back?

“Hmm. Are you challenging my… ingenuity, Tom?” she asked dangerously, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re awful cocky for a man in wet underpants!”

His grin sparkled at her, mischief in his eyes. He definitely caught her inadvertent double entendre.

“Last chance to hand ‘em over gracefully, and no one gets hurt…" 

"Do your worst, Cherie!” he spread his hands in invitation with a wicked grin.

“On you own head, be it!” she growled. Step forward it is.

Cherie stood contemplating him, biting her lip, figuring out the best way to approach her… task. No way she’s going to wrestle them away from him. She is strong herself, well muscled and lithe, but… no. While a physical tussle with him would probably, -she eyed him up and down, -make that definitely- , be very enjoyable, she thought that the chances that she could remember her goal while wrestling with him to be approximately nil. So, go for words first. Well, she thought, let’s try this the easy way, shall we? Cherie clasped her hands demurely.

“Tom?”

“Yes, Cherie?”

“May I please have your underpants?”, she asked sweetly.

There was a pause.

“Darling, I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question quite so… innocently. But, no. You may not." The corner of Tom’s mouth lifted, a smug, confident look on his face.

She grinned wickedly. "Well, it was worth a try!”

Cherie looked down at her bare feet, chewing her lip in thought. He could spend all day out stubborn-ing her, but her goal was to get him out of those wet underpants sooner rather than later. She made a decision. Yeah, she’s going from zero to 60 in naught point 8 seconds, but she figured she had about a 100% chance of succeeding with this tactic. So, go for it.

Cherie brought her hands to her waist, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans quickly, wriggling them down her legs, as Tom gaped at her in surprise. She stepped out of them and stood calmly before him in her hip length tee and a pair of bright red knit men’s boxer-briefs.

Tom’s breath stuttered to a halt.

Cherie played with the red hem resting on her thighs a moment. Then she skimmed her fingertips up to the waistband at her hips and tucked her thumbs into the elastic, and flared her fingers out in question.

“Trade you?”

She raised her eyes and watched him curiously. His attention was utterly arrested, his eyes tracing over her. He looked gobsmacked.

“Breathe, Tom.” she ordered quietly.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through pursed lips. Tom completely lost his grip on his resolve. Although, to be fair, it would hardly be taking advantage if she was offering… would it? But is she offering? Jesus Christ, she was amazing!

“That…” he cleared his throat, “that is… unexpected. Holy fuck, Cherie!”

“Well?” she asked impatiently, “Will you trade me yours for mine?”

“Oh.” he breathed,“Oh, yes please, Ma Cherie…" 

She started to push the briefs down, but he flung up a hand. "Wait." He took another deep breath and looked up into her face, searching and seeing what he hoped there.

"I want… may I… take them off?”

Cherie moved slowly within his arms’ reach, watching him as he glanced down once more and back to her face. He licked his lips and swallowed hard, his adams’ apple sliding down and up the long column of his throat. She nodded slowly.

Tom sat up straight, his hands came up and took hers, pulling them from her waistband and holding them out from her sides as he looked her over. He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed the back of each hand before releasing one. Keeping hold of one hand, the other drifted to the hem at her left thigh, lightly tracing the edge.

“Cherie,” Tom whispered, “this has to be the maddest, sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Do… you always wear men’s underpants?”

“Mm, no. Usually just to exercise, but I was cold today…” she murmured.

His hand continued to trace up her thigh to her hip, his thumb caressing the red-clad flare of her hip bone. Her breath caught as she felt desire run through her body from that sole contact point. Both his hands went to her waistband, and then continued upwards, fingers delicately tracing her ab muscles, the hem of her tee catching and rising on his wrists.

“Cherie? Can we have this off? Please?” he indicated her shirt.

Cherie reached down and pulled the hem of the shirt over her head, and dropped it on the floor. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, it being her vacation, after all. Her hand came up and slid the band from her hair, gathering her hair and bringing it over one shoulder, to drape gently across the top of one breast.

“Ohhhh… look how pretty your tits are, darling, so pink and sweet…” he sighed. One fingertip reached out and brushed her left nipple. Cherie squirmed, the contact igniting a spark that flew through her. Cherie had always regarded her bosom as just large enough to prove that she wasn’t a boy, and most men seemed to agree. Apparently, Tom didn’t. Tom’s hands skated over the outside curve of each breast, giving them a gentle squeeze when she arched into his hands with a small moan. 

Moving back to her hips, he gently turned her, and her head turned to follow, watching him over her shoulder as he scanned her rear view. His big hand smoothed over her ass, his eyes following and taking in the swell and play of her muscles under the clinging fabric as she clenched at his touch, before he turned her back around.

“God, this is so… fuck.” he blew out a breath.

Once more he ran his hand over her belly, hips and thighs, before his hands came to rest lightly over her sex. He looked up into her eyes, one eyebrow raised. He had a way of raising his eyebrow over his nose, in entreaty, and damn, it was sexy. She licked her lips.

Cherie had an almost dizzying sense of deja vu, as she looked down at him. She gasped and shivered, not understanding the weird sense of familiarity that came over her as Tom watched her so intently. After a moment, she dipped her chin down in a small nod of assent. They both focused on his hands as he smoothed them upward to the waistband over her hips and his fingertips curled into the elastic. He gently tugged the red knit over her hips and slid them slowly down her thighs and legs, steadying her with a hand as she stepped out.

Tom slowly ran his hands back up, over her shins and knees, leaving the underpants on the floor. His big hands spanned each of her legs, his thumbs coming to rest gently at the apex of her thighs. They brushed upwards, ghosting over her lips and back in a barely there touch.

He leaned forward and drew the tip of his nose up her lower belly to her navel, his tongue snaking out and giving her belly a small lick, and a light kiss, inhaling her scent. Her hips twitched forward involuntarily at the teasing touch.

He glanced up at her, his eyes hooded with desire. She raised her hand and graced the curve of his jaw, feeling the muscle there as it bunched, before stepping back.

“Your turn, Tom.” she said quietly, indicating his pants. “May I?”

He raised his hands from her body. “Please do, Cherie”, he murmured with a small smile.

She bent over him, her straight blonde hair falling forward, the ends tickling onto his chest and belly as her fingers reached into the waistband of his sweats over each hip and lightly searched out the elastic of his damp underpants. She grasped hold of both garments.

Tom lifted his hips and she slid the back of his pants down under his ass. Releasing her hold, she glided her hands around to his front. There was definitely a pronounced bulge there, so she lifted his waistband up and over. Catching her first glimpse of his cock, she glanced up at him with a grin. 

“It’s very pretty, isn’t it? With it’s formal little collar and all…?”

He smirked. “I like it well enough.”

She leaned over and gave it a brief tantalizing lick as he gasped. She carried on pulling off his pants, dropping them on the floor along with hers. Tom held his hand out to her, beckoning, she put her hand in his, and had another one of those odd deja vu moments as he drew her to him. She shivered.

“Is this alright, Cherie?”

“Oh yes, I think so. More than alright…”

She lifted her leg and straddled his thighs, ran her hands up under his tee and urged him to let her pull it over his head. His eyes trailed down to her breasts and his hands reached for her, circling her nipples.

“Cherie, I want to taste these.." He leaned forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth, murmuring into her nipple, sending a jolt straight to her center.  
She brushed her fingertips over his own hard little nibs, lightly scratching with her nails as he gasped.

She pushed forward over him, pulling her breasts free, brushing his chest and crowding him into lying back in the chair, his head coming to rest on the back.  
He brought both his hands up to cup her cheeks and brushed his lips teasingly over hers, before bringing her more firmly against his mouth. Holding her head still as he ghosted his nose against her cheek, nuzzling her a bit, he ran his tongue over the corner of her mouth, flicking out to taste her.

She moaned lowly and he pulled her head down to bring her mouth in full contact with his, deepening the kiss. His tongue sought entrance and she opened her mouth to him on a sigh, tasting the tea on his tongue.

Tom moaned back into her mouth, moved his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, invading all her senses. Eventually letting her up for air, their eyes fluttered open and they stared at each other from inches away.

Tom licked his own lips and murmured "Vraiment sorcellerie, Ma Cherie…”

Cherie sat up abruptly, staring down at him. She suddenly knew the source of her deja-vu, her unease. Her eyes widened and traced over his face and chest, coming back to rest on his eyes, his eyebrow high over his nose in question. That was it, the last puzzle piece, those eyebrows triggered her memory. She stilled for a moment, assimilating the knowledge. 

She leaned forward and traced her nose up his cheek, inhaling him, and brushing a small kiss between those brows, before she sat back. It didn’t really make any difference, did it, between knowing and not-knowing? She didn’t come to this place in time because of that knowledge, in fact, if she had known, she very likely might not have chosen to be here.


	6. Chapter 6

Cherie looked down at the handsome, untroubled face, and decided to keep her revelation to herself for now. She drew her knees up onto the chair beside his hips. Thank god for wide-seated reading chairs, she thought, and slid her sex over his erection, slicking him with her arousal.

Tom hummed in appreciation and moved a hand around to her mound, urging her to give his hand room between them. He shifted her further back onto strong thighs, giving himself free access to her folds, tracing a finger down her lips and back up. Her head fell back and her hips rolled toward him.

His fingertip nuzzled it’s way through her folds to gently stroke her clit. Her head snapped up to stare into his eyes.

“Oh god,” she whispered. "I truly, deeply, want you inside me, Tom. Please…“ She nearly whined at him.

"Not yet, Cherie… I have been half hard…god, ever since you stood over me in the rain this morning. You are utterly delectable… I want to see you come undone first…” His voice was a deep purr, eyes intent.

His fingers delved into her folds, moving to trace around her entrance, dipping in slightly to pick up some of her moisture and moving back up to circle teasingly around her clit.

Cherie whimpered, his touch entrancing, and she wanted more. More… She thrust her hips against his hand demandingly.

“Tom,” her voice breathy, “Tom, please!”

Tom’s other hand moved to her breast, molding it in his palm, catching the nipple between his fingers, right between the knuckles of his first and second fingers, which he used to squeeze and massage the nipple between them, while his mouth searched out the other breast. His tongue laved her breast over and over, finally circling her nipple.

She whined at the sensations, the torment just this side of too much, desperately wanting…something. More. Less. He closed his mouth over her breast, sucking her strongly into his mouth, such delightfully small breasts, only a mouthful, really. He suckled at her breast a moment before scraping his teeth lightly over the nipple. Cherie arched her chest against his mouth and hand, moaning.

“God yes please, Tom! That’s so good…”

He hummed against her breast, the vibrations going straight to her pussy. He slid a long finger into her as she gasped and thrust against his hand. His thumb went to her clit, tapping gently against it. She whimpered again, a pleading sound.

“That’s right, Cherie, fuck yourself onto my hand. You feel so good…warm and wet for me…”

She clamped down on his finger, and he inserted another, thrusting forward hard into her.

“Oh fuck!” she wailed.

His other hand reached up to the back of her neck and brought her throat down to his mouth. He suckled and thrust his fingers up into her, his thumb brushing rapidly across the tip of her clit, her body writhing on his. He was so hard he thought he might burst.

“Oh god, yes! Don’t, don’t stop…oh please, please, please!” She muttered in a low voice as she rocked against his hand.

“That’s right, Cherie, come for me. You know you want it, sweet girl. Give it to me…” he demanded.

Cherie’s body arched back, rigid, as her walls clamped down on his fingers, a scream lodged in her head, her vocal chords and breath paralyzed for long, electric moments, as her spine bent back, harder and harder, until Tom felt compelled to reach for her back with one hand to support her.

"More, Cherie, give me more.” Tom growled at her, continuing to thrust his fingers up into her, his thumb riding her clit mercilessly, as her cry finally burst free and she rode another wave up into the stars bursting behind her eyelids.

“Oh darling, that was so beautiful. So gorgeous,” he whispered into her ear, as she collapsed onto his chest panting, her eyes squeezed shut.

Tom gently rode the last of her orgasm out with his hand, his other hand stroking down her hair and back, gentling her back to earth, murmuring in her ear words of comfort and beauty, as her breathing steadied and she came back into her senses.

“Mmmmm.” He let her rest on his chest, recovering, stroking her back with the hand she had so recently ridden, the other hand cupping the back of her head to his heart.

Finally she was able to raise her head, her breathing and heart rate almost back to normal. She kissed his chin softly.

“That was lovely, Thomas…” She sighed after a moment. She raised herself slightly more to look into his blue gaze.

“…May I call you Thomas?” she inquired lightly, smiling. He chuckled.

“Oh yes Cherie, I think you should, after that.” His eyes twinkled at her and he kissed her forehead softly.

“So, Thomas?”

“Yes, Cherie?”

She wriggled against him, then sat up on his lap, put her hands on the chair back to either side of his head and looked into his eyes.

“I would like to ride you now. Would that be alright with you, Thomas?”

His answer was a deep groan and a whisper of “Dear god, yes, please!“ as she swiveled her hips over his, grinding herself down over him, wetting both of them. She leaned over and captured his mouth, biting and suckling on his lower lip before she dipped into his mouth and stroked her tongue along his.

"So polite…” she murmured. Cherie sat up and reached into the tiny drawer in the small table next to her reading chair and came up with a condom and handed it to him with a flourish and a ‘Ta-da!’

Tom snickered at her magician’s assistant act, took the thing from her and efficiently applied it. He reached for her, pulling her closer.

Her groan met his as his hands closed around her ass cheeks and ground her body down on his. His hips began to thrust up, she shifted and widened her knees, opening herself to him. He slid between her folds, back and forth. And again.

She released his mouth to run her nose across his cheek to his ear, deliberately letting him hear her draw in a long moaning breath. She tongued the soft, tender spot right below his ear, tasting the salt of his recent exertions.

Sliding her hand down between their bodies, she grasped his cock, murmuring as she explored it with her fingers, admiring it. At last placing the head of his cock at her entrance, she dipped her hips to take him in just an inch or so before sliding him back out. Tom groaned and tried to push up into her, but she lifted herself with him, not allowing him deeper, intent on teasing them both a bit.

The lights and music blinked off, Cherie startled at the loud simultaneous crash of thunder and the flash of sizzling light, her knees slipping out from under her, dropping her down hard onto Tom’s full length, piercing her unexpectedly, filling her, oh god, so overfull. She shrieked her shock… and delight!

“Christ!“ Tom yelped, his hands gripping Cherie’s hips as her tight, wet heat enveloped him of a sudden, coming this close to setting him off. His fingers dug into her ass cheeks, desperately immobilizing her, gasping for breath.

“H-hold still Cherie! Dear god, don’t, don’t move!” He ground out as he teetered on the edge precariously, grappling with his control.

“Jesus, Thomas! You’re going to choke me with that!” she gasped into his ear.

Tom laughed, a wild, unconstrained sound from his chest at her innuendo, grateful for her distraction.

“Fuck Cherie, the way you’re gripping me I’ll expire far before you’re in danger of suffocating!”

Cherie watched his Adam’s apple bobbing in that long, enticing pale throat as he held them both still, recovering, clinging to his control. A small spark and a smirk lit her lips at the thought that she had nearly made him come undone with one stroke. She waited, holding as still as possible, until his jaw loosened and he swallowed again, stuttering out a long panting breath. When his eyes fluttered open and she could see sense in the burning blue, she carefully leaned down, kissing him, her hands delving into his red blonde curls.

"Alright, love?” She smirked and nodded, kindly not mentioning that he was the one with the close call, leaning into the kiss.

Tom groaned into her mouth, his hands leaving her hips and moving to her back as she licked into his mouth, gliding softly over her satiny skin. Slowly she clenched over him, enjoying feeling every square inch of him buried deep in her. Her breath shuddered out.

One large hand slipped from her back, around her ribs and cupped her breast. The sensation of his calloused palm completely covering her, gripping the hot aching point of her breast drove a small cry from her.

Burying her lips in that long, pale column of neck, her tongue licked out to taste his salty skin. That taste was so tantalizing that she couldn’t resist running her tongue from hard collarbone, up the sinew of his neck to his ear. The silky, salty taste of him had her fighting a desire to nibble and bite and suck.

But it wouldn’t do to mark him, so she contented herself with a lick of his earlobe before sliding her lips across his jaw to his mouth. She felt his lips spread in a smile as her mouth dove onto him.

Cherie cupped his jaw, lightly holding him as she deepened the kiss. Tom’s hand moved into the hair at the back of her head, silky strands sliding through his fingers.

Sitting high up on his hips, impaled and rocking slowly, her head dropped back on her neck with a luxuriant sigh.

Slow pleasure warmed Tom’s skin as he moved in her. He watched her body undulate rather like a sensuous belly dance, accompanied by a rippling squeeze of her pussy around his cock.

One long fingered hand slid down his chest and belly to surround her swollen clit, his fingers moving in the same rhythm as her hips, long and slow and utterly captivating. Cherie’s head rolled up with a groan as she looked down at him, watched his heavy eyes flutter as she swiveled her hips around him, felt the pads of his fingers languidly circling around and over her clit.

His eyes met hers, blazing blue to brown in the firelight and he slid his other hand up the center of her body to cup her breast. Her breath stuttered when his fingers began to pluck and roll her nipple, and she helplessly spasmed over his cock. A spark lit his eyes and he did it again, with the same result, grinding herself down onto his fingers, the pace of her rocking picking up.

“Oh yes, you feel so good, Cherie…” he murmured.

Her crooked smile flashed with a little mischief.

“Yes, I do…”

Cherie gasped as Tom’s fingers on her nipple tugged harder and the fingers on her clit became more insistent. She leaned down, placing her hands on his chest and kissed him, no longer rolling her hips in that slow and lazy way, urgency beginning to build between them. Sparks were beginning to skitter along her nerves, spurring them on. She thrust down hard on him, grinding into his fingers, pussy clenching around him.

He brought his feet up near his butt for leverage to thrust up hard into her, hissing at the pain that lanced up through him from his injured foot. He had completely forgotten his injury in the face of their passion. Her head jerked up and she glanced behind.

“Put it down! You can let me do the work… for now.” She smiled wickedly at him, waggling her eyebrows comically. Tom grinned and obediently lowered his feet again, but she could feel the steel hard tensing of his thighs and abdomen as he tried to thrust up into her as she ground down. Hmm, good core strength.

Both of them were panting, her vigorous riding bringing them closer and closer, sweat dripping from her temples, running down her neck, glistening between her breasts. Tom’s own hair dampening and darkening. One hand moved up to clutch at her hip.

“Come on…come Cherie…” She felt his fingernail scrape over the top of her clit and detonated, flying apart.

Tom’s hips drove up, lifting them both. She felt him swelling and pulsing inside her, his head thrown back, his Adam’s apple sliding up his throat. His body fell back into the chair and his eyes opened, looking up tenderly at her. Tom clasped her to him as the last of their orgasms faded, Cherie collapsing limply on him as they breathed heavily.

Eventually she stirred with a small laugh, interrupting their companionable silence gently.

“Cry God for Harry-“

“-England and St. George!” They both finished together.

“You’ve recognized me, Cherie.” he sighed. Staring into her face, his own expression was somewhere between wary and resigned. She blinked at him.  
“Does that make a difference to you?” Cherie searched his face, finding a sorrow that wasn’t there a moment ago. She watched him take a deep breath and acknowledgement of his own reality fill his eyes, his face falling into regret.

Her fingers searched out his mouth, lying across his lips, intending to stay his thoughts and concerns for a moment, her eyes flicking between his.  
Her mouth clenched in some sort of commiseration, as if she could understand his disappointment at the loss of his anonymity.

“What gave me away?” he asked, genuinely curious. Cherie’s lips twitched into a conspiratorial smile.

“The eyebrow. The angle of your face to mine, your expression … Straight out of that scene where Henry is wooing Catherine.” She traced the pad of her thumb across his cheekbone, looking softly into his eyes. After a moment, she shrugged.

“I was happy to be right here well before I recognized you, Tom. That hasn’t changed.“ She drew her fingertip into the groove around his mouth and across his lower lip.

His blue eyes warmed and his tongue sought the pad of her finger for a longing taste. Cherie’s head tilted, and she pushed her fingertip between his lips, sliding along his tongue.

“If I’d recognized you first… honestly, I might not have let this happen… but here we are. I’ve no intention of demanding more from you. Or less.” She pulled her hand away from his mouth, soothing her fingers over the concern writ on his forehead, and leaned down to touch her nose to his briefly.

“Tom, I’m a private person, not a…a Starfucker, even if I do live on a beach in California. This-“ she gestured at their nude bodies, “is a lovely way to spend a rainy afternoon. That’s all. I have no intention of dragging either of us into the tabloids. And no desire to perform for the circus at all, alright?”

“I’m sorry, Cherie.” he said apologetically. “It’s been difficult lately for me since-“

She laid her fingers on his mouth, interrupting him, and smiled gently.

“Do you want me to sign an NDA before or after I fuck you again?” Tom’s eyes flared.

“Neither, darling. I don’t want lawyers between us, any more than I want the tabloids. Just fuck me.” He growled. She grinned back.

“I can do that. I must say though, you’re giving new meaning to 'unprotected sex’!”

Tom snorted and shook his head at her whimsy.

Abruptly the power clicked on, lights startling them both, as Diana Ross and the Supremes sang ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’. She rested against his chest as he idly stroked her hair, neither of them speaking.

Eventually Cherie stirred and sat up, glancing over her shoulder and down his body.

“How’s your foot? No worse for wear?”

“It’s fine, thank you. What about you? Are you all right, love?”

She stretched, her arms overhead and a catlike smile on her face.

"I’m good.” She pushed up to stand and ran her hands through her hair. “I could use a shower…Or would you prefer a bath?” She eyed his injured foot.

“Darling, I can get a shower when I get home, no problem.”

Cherie squinted her eyes at him threateningly.

“Thomas,” she said firmly, “there is no way I’m going to let you shower alone on one foot! I won’t have you slipping and falling on wet shower tile! So, shower or bath?”

He held his hands up in surrender with a smile.

“Darling, whichever you prefer will be delightful if you’re in it with me.”


	7. Chapter 7

Tom’s stomach growled in tandem with Cherie’s, and they both laughed.

“Right. Food first?”

“Yes, please?” he said a bit plaintively.

Tom’s eyes roved over her as she chattered, making breakfast. She was gloriously tall for a woman, easily 5’ 11” or more. Slim without being bony, fit without being hard. Beautifully proportioned breasts, like ripe peaches, just right. Her breasts had large areola and pert nipples. Her waist dipped just the right amount, spreading out to warm hips and strong, long thighs. Her arse was delicious and bitable. He switched his gaze to her expressive face, wide mobile mouth and flashing dimple, long straight nose and a firm jaw with a sharp chin that he thought could be called foxy.

Her coloring was beautiful, sun-kissed and warm, light golden skin, sun streaked almost white-blonde hair on top layered over a darker blonde at her ears and the nape of her graceful neck. She wore no cosmetics. He didn’t know was that was habitual, or simply that it was her vacation and she couldn’t be bothered, but she had no need for them, with dark blonde, elegant eyebrows and a sweep of long, dark blonde lashes over deep chocolate eyes. Those eyes cut to him, expressive brows up in question.

“I’m sorry darling, what?” Tom asked, flustered that he had been so caught up in her that he hadn’t heard her question.

“I asked if you like salsa on your eggs? Whatever you like, but please don’t tell me that you want ketchup! I might have to throw you back out into the rain!” Tom chuckled.

“Salsa will do, thank you darling. I’ve no desire to brave the storm!” He eagerly accepted the mouthwatering plate of omelet and sausage, tucking in immediately.

“You’re not going anywhere exotic for your holiday?” Tom asked curiously after half devouring the marvelous eggs. Cherie made a gruesome face and shook her head.

“Not unless you count a road trip to wine country with a couple of old college buddies as exotic! No, I fly too much for work to want to fly somewhere else for vacation! Anyway, I love the ocean, it’s why I live on the seaside after all. Why bother leaving when I have everything I want right here? Staying home for my vacation is a luxury, let me tell you!” Cherie grinned mischievously, dimples deepening.

“Besides, such interesting flotsam washes up on the beach!” She reached out and pinched his cheek. He chuckled, capturing her hand and kissing her knuckles.  
“How apt. Flotsam at your service, darling…” he waggled his eyebrows playfully.

She laughed as he pulled her down on his lap, an arm wrapped around her back and the other under her chin, long fingers stroking her cheek.

“Thank you for your rescue and care, Cherie.” he said quietly.

“Tom, you’re very welcome!” She dimpled and jumped up to rinse and stack their few dishes in her dishwasher. He watched her move competently about her kitchen as she tidied, considering her. He liked her, and wouldn’t mind in the least spending more time getting to know her with her clothes on. He chewed his lip, very aware of the pitfalls of what he was about to ask.

“Will you come out with me tomorrow?” he asked. Cherie answered over her shoulder.

“Oh honey, I can’t. I promised to take my niece to Disneyland tomorrow.”

“Then how about the day after?”

Cherie shook her head, a little surprised, but pleased at his persistence.

“That wine country trip with my girlfriends that I mentioned… We’ll be gone four days. Maybe after?”

Tom didn’t hide his disappointment.

“I’m only in town until Thursday,” he said a little desperately, “then I have to fly out to London…” Cherie shrugged.

“We won’t be back until Friday. Oh well,” she shrugged, “I suppose we’ll just have to seize the day…” Cherie batted her eyelashes at him and he laughed.

“I’d far rather seize you!”

“I need more room to work…” he grumbled. With a quick glance around at the sofa, he stood and limped over, flopping down and stretching. “… Ah, that’s better.” He waited, watching her as she dried her hands.

Cherie hung up the dishtowel and turned to find him studying her. She pushed her hair back from her face and leaned against the butcher block counter, looking back at him. She became aware that the storm had slowed into a steady rain, the crushing thunder receded into the distance, as they regarded each other silently.

The waves of the ocean were a constant, rhythmic heartbeat under their silence, timeless, steady and reassuring.

After a long moment of silent communication, Tom lifted his hand and held it out to her, willing her to come to him and take it. She moved as if mesmerized, drawn by the magnetism of those blazing eyes.

He watched her come to him. He could only think of a cheetah, long, lithe and limber when she laid her hand in his warm palm, and he drew her into his lap.  
Looking into his serious gaze she felt a sense of companionship and compassion, the sensation all the more sharp for knowing that today is all there is. The corner of her mouth lifted and she cupped his cheek as she leaned gently down to offer soft lips. She felt his breath sigh out of him, and lips move on hers before his hands buried themselves in her hair.

He took the kiss away from her, but she found that he was giving her back the slow, lush kiss that she had started. It felt like a gift given and received, received and returned tenfold. Cherie’s body melted bonelessly into his, surprising herself with her easy surrender.

His lips never leaving hers, Tom twisted her onto her back on the sofa, rolling between her thighs, his good foot to the floor, gently but insistently lowering his weight onto her, covering her with his body.

It was the first time she had experienced his weight on her body. He was lean, but so hard and dense, he matched her mouth to mouth, chest to chest, hip to hip, enveloping her entirely with his body. It was…nice. That may not seem the compliment that it sincerely was, but being held had become a rare thing in her busy life, and it was lovely.

Tom felt the same, relishing the slow moment of intimacy, reveling in the lithe body pressed under his.

Cherie reached up and traced the upward tilt of his eyebrow with a gentle smile. Tom grinned intimately and lifted his body on one arm to trail his hand down the center of hers, her body arching up into his hand.

He fingered skin under the hem of her tee shirt before he pulled it up her body and dropped it on the floor. Staying poised over her, his breath caught as he looked down at her body, then leaned to kiss slowly over her collarbone, his free hand tracing lightly over the other side.

Cherie’s head fell back, her chin lifting on a sigh to bare her neck for his mouth. Tom seemed content to explore every inch of her throat with tender lips, his slow breaths repeatedly ghosting over and warming the skin of her neck.

Her hand found the back of his head, fingers combing through the short hair at his nape, moving higher to the slightly longer hair, twining her fingers in and out of the soft curls.

Leaning up, he took her lips in a slow gentle kiss, the warm spiced tingle on his tongue a reminder of the salsa she had layered on her omelettes. She licked into his mouth, tongue sliding against his, taking the time to taste him and commit him to memory.

Her hands moved down his to his broad shoulders, caressing along the rounded hard muscle down to his biceps, clinging to them tightly as his lips moved once again down her neck, gentle nibbles and licks and nips making her shiver.

Cherie was caught, suspended in the moment as he moved down, worshipping at her breasts, nothing else existed in her universe but his hot mouth suckling her sensitive breast, and the small murmurs of his delight.

Her hips lifted, yearning against the hardness in his pants, as he groaned and bucked against her in turn. A small bell of reminder went off in her head, touching off a skirmish between her need and practicality. Sense retuned briefly and she pushed up at his shoulders.

He lifted his head from her breast to look up, eyes heavy and hazy with desire.

“Condom!” she gasped.

He nodded, reached into the pocket of his pants and produced one. When had he tucked that away? Clever man…

Pressing the condom packet into her hand, he dove back to her other breast. Cherie cried out, clutching the condom uselessly in her hand as he continued to lick and suck his way down her body.

Her skin was on fire, that coil tightening in her belly and hips lifted pleadingly the closer he came to her center. He teased her, mouth trailing hot kisses over her belly, tongue dipping into the crease of her thigh, biting the crest of her hip.

And then he was there, his tongue insinuating it’s way between her folds, his thumbs opening her for the flat of his tongue to lick a hot, broad path up her sex.  
Cherie nearly levitated as he licked her over and again, her hips straining upward, crying out with each stroke of his talented tongue. He was winding her tighter and tighter…

“Tom, no…wait…” she panted, “Not yet…” pushing at his head. He growled his displeasure at being interrupted, but allowed her to push him up.

Sitting up between her knees, Tom reached behind his neck and pulled the pink Hello Kitty shirt over his head, dropping it on top of hers as she leaned up onto her elbows to watch with a small smirk. She had to admit, he had a gorgeous body, defined and fit. Most men, in her experience, without an ounce of fat on their bodies seem to carry excess fat between their ears, but so far Tom had given no indication of suffering from that condition.

Pushing up, he peeled his sweat pants off, kicking them away, his cock leaping out of it’s confines eagerly. Cherie couldn’t help her rather loopy grin as her eyes appreciatively traced the fat vein twining up the underside, and the purpling head blooming from its foreskin.

Tom reached for the condom still clutched in her hand, but she refused to relinquish it with a wicked smile.

“My turn…” and sat up with a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

“If you must…” he pouted as if he were put upon, hiding his own grin.

She stared down at the lovely cock as Tom gave it a stroke, pulling his foreskin down and revealing the wide bell of his cock head.

On her knees, gazing up into his face. She began to slide her hands up his thighs and both their gazes watched her hands move upward, upward, continuing until her fingertips found the crease between his hips and thighs, leaning forward to tongue at the dip between his tight, quivering abdominal muscles and his hip.

She moved her hands back to his knees and watched his cock twitch. She began the upward trek over his thighs once more. She bent over his legs, allowing the breath from her parted lips to brush the curled ginger hairs growing on his thighs, stirring the hair and causing goosebumps to rise, and another twitch of his cock and belly muscles.

Tom’s hand began smoothing over her hair, neither pushing or pulling, just running his fingers over and through her sun gold hair, feeling it’s silky fineness cling to his fingers.

Moving on, Cherie took the time to breathe over his cock, her warm moist breath causing it to strain upward toward the promise of her mouth. Tom worked his fingers gently into the hair at the side of her face, both holding her hair back and tilting her head slightly to the side so he could see what she was doing to him. He watched as her tongue reached out and delicately touched the bead of moisture at his cockhead, tasting him. 

Cherie brought a hand up and softly grasped his cock, gently pulling downwards, sliding his foreskin down to fully reveal his crown. Tom’s breath stopped as he fought the urge to buck into her hand.

Cupping her tongue, she covered his cockhead, nestling it there a moment before closing her lips over it and beginning to lightly suckle. She ran her tongue down the underside and then took it all into her mouth, sliding down until she felt it touch the back of her throat. She swallowed around him.

Tom groaned, and laid a gentle hand under her chin, urging her away from his straining cock, up to kiss his mouth. Cherie opened her eyes as he pulled back from the kiss.

Silently he reached for the condom, held tight and forgotten in her fist. They both laughed at the crumpled package as he peeled her fingers away. Tom plucked it from her fingers and tore it open. Cherie bit her lip as he smoothed it over himself, seating it firmly, and pushed her back.

He caught and held her eyes as he guided himself between her thighs and slowly pushed into her liquid heat. She watched his jaw harden with control as he stretched her, neither one breathing until he was fully seated, both their breaths shuddering out of them.

Groaning, his eyes closing and head falling back, he savored the sensation of her tight grasp engulfing him as she panted, adjusting to his intrusion. He ground into her, his cock prodding into her lower belly, heavy and full, setting off an involuntary clenching of her interior muscles, rippling around him.

Tom’s head lifted and he moved at last, his hips pulling back and thrusting hard, driving a cry from her lungs.

“Again…” she panted, and he obliged. She rolled her hips and they found a rhythm that rocked them both to their core, Tom suspended over her on his hands, his head dipping to her throat to mouth hungrily at it, and whisper into her skin.

“Beautiful…so good…delicious…fuck…yes…Cherie…”

Her ankles crept up the back of his thighs, changing the angle of her hips with every thrust until his cock was hitting the right spot inside and driving her higher and higher, her long legs wrapped firmly around his waist.

Tom lowered onto his elbows, intending to reach between them and push her over, but she wrapped her arms around his neck an lifted her mouth to bite at his collarbone, small moans and whimpers issuing from her throat a continuous murmur in his ear. Her hips rocked faster, and Tom felt his balls begin to draw up, that warning tingle wrapping around his spine.

“Tom…Tom…I’m going to-!” She arched, body going rigid beneath him, and her cunt gripping and spasming around him as she yanked him right off the cliff edge with her. Tom came with a groaning cry, head thrown back, hips pushed tight against hers, liquid fire pouring from his balls as he panted.

He collapsed onto her and they both lay gasping, hearts thundering, as they slowly surfaced. Cherie grunted, striving to fill her lungs with much needed air, and Tom promptly lifted onto his elbow.

“Sorry…” he scooped his arm under her and carefully rolled them, lying on his back and bringing her to drape limply over his body.

“Alright, love?” he asked anxiously. She gave a gasping chuckle.

“Very alright, thanks…”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! With very great appreciation for @catwinchester who wrote this with me with only minor input from me! Thanks Cat, you’re a chum!

Cherie sat on her rear patio, looking out over the beautiful blue sea, so very different from this time last year. Today, rather than storm clouds there was unbroken blue, and rather than a lone runner, there were surfers. And children, and beachcombers, and sunbathers.

And instead of crashing thunder and sheets of rain there’s the cheerful hubbub of happy people over the constant soothing rumble of waves rolling into the beach, keeping the tempo of her life.

She did feel a little melancholy on this, the first day of her vacation, thinking of the last year’s first day of vacation.

Her sweet memories of her day with Tom had kept her warm on many nights since their encounter, but she would be lying if she didn’t admit that she had felt a little bereft for a while.

She wondered if everyone who met him fell in love with him a little bit like this. Being with him was wonderful, like being warmed by the sun in the winter but when he left, the clouds rolled in and the sun went away. Except, of course the opposite happened.

She sighed wistfully and sipped her tea.

Not that she would change anything about their encounter, no, she cherished the memories that she had made that day.

Well maybe she would change one thing, getting his phone number, or giving him hers.

As it was, she hadn’t even thought to ask for a way to contact him and even if she had thought to, she wasn’t sure she’d have had the courage, not wanting their encounter to be dimmed in his eyes by thinking she was going to become a cling-on.

Besides, he’d told her he was only in town for another 4 days and with the weather having ruined that days shoot, he would be working long hours to make up the difference because on day five, he was flying off for London, then he was making a film in Australia, then… She hadn’t paid much attention past that. Clearly he led a manic life most of the time, and she’d thought he was finding a way to kindly tell her that he didn’t have time for her.

Truth be told, her job didn’t leave much time for socialising, either. She forced herself to make the time but then again, seeing her friends didn’t require a transatlantic flight. And thank god for that.

No, rather than lamenting what might have been, she was far better off just cherishing those memories, holding them close and bringing them out when she needed cheering.

She finished her tea and got to her feet, she might be on vacation but she needed to pop out and do some shopping; she had a cake to make this week for a friend’s birthday, then there was her gift to buy and she was running low on some essentials… She also wouldn’t mind browsing the local bookstore, it might be nice to browse in person rather than on Amazon for a change.

She smiled as she peeled her silk nighty off, remembering how the rain had turned it transparent that day. Even the memory of prancing around in front of Tom practically nude and unaware still makes her blush. To think, if she’s worn something else the encounter might not have ended so very pleasantly.

Since she had to venture out into the world and interact with people, she wore a long blue ombre sundress, and she even put a bra on, much to her chagrin. She was looking forward to lounging around in her shorts and tee shirts or a bikini for the next week while she strolled on the beach and did her very best to put a dent in her ‘to be read’ pile.

Maybe she shouldn’t head to the book shop or pretty soon she’d need a whole year off if she hoped to make a dent in her pile. Then sanity reasserted itself as she remembered that you could never have too many books, only not enough time to read them.

Once dressed she swiped a mascara brush over her lashes and applied a little tinted lip balm, but that was as much effort as she was prepared to put into being presentable. Every day at work she had to be suited and booted, perfectly coiffed and wearing a face full of makeup, so she was damned if she was going to spend her vacation the same way.

Grabbing her keys from the hall table, she left her cheery little house, and to stop her mind wandering back to last year’s events, she debated what kind of cake to make for her friend.

***

Cherie arrived back a few hours later feeling accomplished; not only had she shopped, she had found the perfect gift (A beautiful cashmere sweater that was perfect for her friend’s colouring), wrapping paper, a card, and four new books. And, if she’d figured it right, she now had enough food and essentials that she wouldn’t have to leave home for the whole two weeks.

Her efficiency pleased her, but as she unlocked the front door she thought she heard knocking. It better not be the boiler again, she thought darkly, dreading having more work done on it.

She lived in a good neighborhood so she didn’t have to worry about theft too much and as such, she left the shopping in her car for now while she investigated.  
It turned out not to be the boiler at all, but a 6’2” Englishman, shielding his eyes as he peered through the sliding glass doors at the rear of the house, searching for signs of life.

She didn’t bother to damp down her huge smile as she approached the door, his answering delighted grin plainly visible through the glass. She opened the door and they embraced.

Cherie breathed deeply, taking his scent in and enjoying the feel of him pressed against her. They hugged for a ridiculously long time and she wondered if he felt as she did, a little bit like she was home.

“Tom,” she grinned as they separated. “What on earth…?”

“You did tell me you take these two weeks off every year,” he said, returning her grin. “I know it’s cheeky, but I was in town and I didn’t have anything on this week, so I thought I’d see if maybe you wanted to have a picnic with me.” He pointed to a basket he’d brought which, although it was covered with a tea towel, had a French baguette and a wine bottle poking out.

 

“How could I refuse an offer like that?” she asked, stepping back and holding the door open for him. “I just have to get a few bits in from the car, so make yourself at home.”

“Nonsense, I’ll give you a hand.”

Between them they hauled her groceries in and put them away, then set the table out on her patio so they could eat lunch while looking out over the ocean.  
Tom opened the wine as Cherie sat down.

“I hope you don’t mind me turning up here like this,” he said as he poured her a glass of red. She smiled.

“Oh, not at all! As long as we’re both free agents, you’re welcome to darken my door whenever you’re in town.” She picked up her glass and took a sip.  
Tom paused to watch as she closed her eyes, let the wine swirl around her tongue and let out a sinful moan. Honestly, the woman was sex on legs and almost everything she did turned him on. How did more people not see what he did, he wondered.

“Well if those are the conditions, perhaps it might be prudent to exchange email addresses, just so you can warn me when to stay away.”

Cherie smirked. “If you keep bringing wine this good, I might even give you my phone number.”

Tom laughed at her playful answer.

There was something here, something between them that was special, although neither of them seemed to be in a position to act on it right now. But maybe if they kept in touch, one day they might be ready.

“To good friends and good wine,” he held his glass out.

“To good friends, good wine, and damn good sex.” She narrowed her eyes and nodded her head firmly as she clinked her glass against his, issuing a silent challenge, then with a sinful smile, she took a long sip of wine.

Really, Tom thought, after last time she was challenging him? He smirked as he planned how he would meet her challenge, make her scream and leave her sore yet begging for more.

“Eat up, darling,” passing her the bread basket and leaning on one elbow to push her sun-kissed hair behind her ear.

“Trust me when I say, you’re going to need it.” he said with that wicked grin.


End file.
